By Qamar Bashir

Since my early youth, I have firmly believed that Islam is not a religion for the ignorant or the indifferent. It is not for those who refuse to seek knowledge, who shy away from questioning, learning, or understanding the world’s great intellectual traditions—be it philosophy, science, or theology. Islam, at its core, invites human beings to ponder, to analyze, and to implement the divine commands of the Qur’an in a way that enriches their lives—spiritually, morally, and intellectually.

Today, an astonishing phenomenon is sweeping through the heart of the West, particularly in the United States: white and Black men and women—many of them formerly living flamboyant, secular lives—are embracing Islam and doing so publicly, confidently, and eloquently. These new Muslims are not hiding in corners or whispering their faith in shame. Instead, they are lighting up TikTok, Instagram, and YouTube with videos that radiate clarity, pride, and profound spiritual wisdom.

One such TikToker—a graceful white woman, once immersed in the glamour of beach life—now walks confidently across sandy shores in a full-body Islamic swimsuit. She is elegant, serene, and joyous—not ashamed of her faith, but proudly showcasing its beauty. Her modesty, wrapped in style, turns heads not in ridicule, but in reverence. Viewers comment not with mockery, but admiration—one said she looked like “an angel on the beach.”

Another white Muslim woman, glowing with dignity, walks through a shopping mall in a flowing abaya and beautifully draped hijab. Her golden hair peeks through the scarf edges, her confidence glowing from her face like divine light. A fellow shopper—an American white woman—approaches her and says, “We thought an angel descended from heaven into this mall.” Such moments are no longer rare—they are part of a growing trend that is reshaping how Islam is perceived in the West.

A newly converted Black Muslim woman recently spoke on TikTok about cosmetic surgery. She explained, with poise and deep medical understanding, that altering one’s natural features purely for beauty goes against the divine perfection with which Allah created us. However, she clearly distinguished that reconstructive surgery—such as restoring facial features after injury—is not only allowed but compassionate and essential. Her blend of Islamic ethics, medical reasoning, and elegance offered one of the most balanced and intelligent perspectives on the topic.

Another famous TikToker, once a celebrated pop singer, has now become known for her breathtaking Qur’an recitation. Her voice—once used for entertainment—now delivers verses of divine truth. With sincerity and mastery of tajweed, she recites Qur’anic passages so beautifully that it fills the hearts of listeners with tears, awe, and the overwhelming presence of Allah’s word. Millions have watched her recitations, and many say they felt the purity of Islam for the first time just by listening to her voice—now repurposed for the highest calling.

Another white TikToker brought a deeply thoughtful and socially relevant explanation of why Islam permits polygamy. She contextualized it during times of war—particularly in early Islamic history—when many men were martyred, and society was left with a disproportionate number of women and orphans. She explained that, rather than leave widows and children vulnerable, Islam allowed up to four wives—but only if the man could do justice to all. It was not about lust, but mercy. It was about social balance and the care of the weakest members of society. She spoke with intelligence, not shame—clarity, not defensiveness—and turned a controversial topic into a lesson of compassion and justice.

Another inspiring figure is a white female TikToker who has revolutionized modest fashion trends. Fully dressed in elegant Islamic attire, she greets her followers with style, warmth, and flair. But more than that, she introduces dazzling new designs with innovation and creativity—trendy, smart, stylish, yet always dignified and modest. Her fashion choices not only comply with Islamic teachings, but also redefine beauty, proving that modesty is not the opposite of style, but its most refined expression. Her content, radiating joy, affection, and pride, has captivated millions. In no time, her audience has grown into a global sisterhood celebrating modesty as empowerment.

These TikTokers—white, Black, male, female—are creating a revolution of the heart. In a society steeped in consumerism, arrogance, and spiritual vacuity, they are offering something pure, beautiful, and rooted in centuries of divine wisdom. They are not apologetic. They do not hide their identity. They are proud Muslims—knowledgeable, articulate, confident, and joyous.

But this spiritual awakening does not come without resistance. When Zohran Mamdani—a proud Muslim and South Asian—was elected as New York’s first Muslim mayor, the backlash was swift and vicious. Commentators and politicians labeled him a “lunatic communist,” others accused him of celebrating 9/11, while some even called for his denaturalization and expulsion from the United States.

Mamdani responded with grace and courage. He acknowledged that this was the predictable outcome of years of demonizing Muslims in America. “We’ve been branded as terrorists,” he said. “So many Muslims have had to live in shadows—hiding their faith, their dress, their identity—just to survive.” His victory, he said, was a turning point. “We are not terrorists. We are human beings.” He promised to bring those who live in fear into the light, to empower them to speak, contribute, and shape society boldly and unapologetically.

And now, something deeper is happening. For decades, Islam’s public image was hijacked by self-appointed clerics and divisive preachers—many of them more interested in power and profit than truth. They preached hate between sects, glorified one school of thought over another, and filled pulpits with fire but no light. They enriched themselves while impoverishing minds. Their message was fear, division, and self-righteousness.

But slowly and steadily, that custodianship is changing.

Today, Islam’s most powerful voices are no longer coming from fanatic mullahs in ivory towers or palatial TV studios. They’re coming from ordinary, beautiful, educated people—white girls, Black women, Western men—who wear Islam like a crown, not a chain. They speak with knowledge, with dignity, with depth, and with joy. They are spiritual, confident, fashionable, and fearless. They prove, through action, that Islam is not a prison—it is a path to light.

They are not apologetic. They are not hiding. They are not afraid.

And this, I believe, is the future of Islam. Not in the hands of those who weaponize it to divide—but in the hands of those who live it to uplift. When Islam is practiced by people of knowledge, reason, confidence, and compassion, it becomes irresistible. And when it blossoms in the West, the rest of the world will follow. Because truth, when carried by those who live it, will always prevail.

By Qamar Bashir

 Press Secretary to the President (Rtd)

 Former Press Minister, Embassy of Pakistan to France

 Former MD, SRBC | Macomb, Michigan, USA

by Muhammad Mohsin Iqbal

Tax collection has always been an indispensable pillar in the architecture of a functioning state. Since the earliest formations of organized governance, levying taxes has been a standard practice to ensure the sustenance of administrative machinery, provision of public services, and the defense of the realm. No society, however prosperous or modest, can remain viable without a steady inflow of revenue, and taxes provide precisely that foundation. In modern states, particularly those with large populations and growing development needs, tax collection becomes not merely a fiscal necessity but a moral and civic obligation. Citizens who enjoy the privileges and protections offered by the state are expected, in return, to contribute their due share. This principle, though universally acknowledged in theory, often faces glaring contradictions in practice.

Pakistan, unfortunately, presents a classic example of this discrepancy. Despite repeated campaigns and policy measures to broaden the tax base, there remains a large segment of society that views tax payment not as a duty, but as a burden to be shirked. Various interest groups, often shielded by special patronage or informal networks, have for decades found ways to escape their share of contribution. Yet, amidst this culture of evasion and selective accountability, there exists one group that bears the burden consistently and inevitably—the government servants.

Unlike many other classes, the salaried government employees in Pakistan have no room to maneuver or evade. Their income, being drawn directly from the state exchequer, is subject to automatic deductions at the source. Regardless of their consent or financial flexibility, they are taxed before their salaries even reach their hands. And this past fiscal year, these deductions reached a record high. According to recent reports, the salaried class contributed an astounding Rs. 545 billion in income tax during the fiscal year ending June 30, 2025. This contribution not only surpassed but dwarfed the combined tax paid by two other significant segments of the economy—exporters and retailers.

Exporters, despite enjoying the benefits of earning in foreign currency and having access to substantial government incentives, paid only Rs180 billion. Retailers, a politically entrenched group historically resistant to documentation and regulation, contributed a meager Rs62 billion under sections 236G and 236H of the Income Tax Ordinance. When added together, these two sectors paid Rs242 billion—less than half of what the salaried class alone contributed. This disparity speaks volumes about the structural inequalities embedded within the tax regime. Why are income tax rates not levied on other sectors of life at the same rate and with the same spirit as government employees? This question echoes across the corridors of public discourse, unanswered and inconvenient.

The government employees’ contribution of Rs545 billion marked a sharp increase from Rs367 billion in the previous fiscal year, indicating an additional burden of Rs178 billion. Such a dramatic rise, though indicative of increased revenue collection, also highlights the lack of equitable tax enforcement across sectors. It is deeply ironic that those who are most exposed, most transparent in their earnings, and least able to avoid taxation, are the ones carrying the largest share of the burden.

The much-publicized Tajir Dost Scheme (TDS), introduced with fanfare as a mechanism to bring retailers into the formal tax net, has largely failed to deliver on its promises. Retailers, despite their profitability and volume of transactions, have managed to evade meaningful taxation yet again. Sections 236G and 236H, which impose taxes on distributors, dealers, wholesalers, and retailers based on their gross sales, were meant to serve as deterrents against non-compliance. However, even these measures have resulted in limited success. While they have generated some revenue and forced a few into the net, the overall response remains lukewarm.

In light of this, the Federal Board of Revenue (FBR) has attempted to offer some relief to the already overburdened salaried class. According to FBR’s officials, the first two tax slabs have been revised downward for the fiscal year 2025-26. Individuals earning between Rs600,000 and Rs1.2 million annually will now be taxed at 1 percent instead of 5 percent, and those earning between Rs1.2 million and Rs2.2 million will see their rate reduced from 15 percent to 11 percent. This adjustment is expected to provide a collective relief of Rs50 billion to the salaried class—though one could argue it is a modest reprieve considering the scale of their contribution.

Among the salaried class, government employees serving in teaching and research roles had long benefitted from a modest tax rebate—a recognition of their intellectual service to the nation. This rebate was first introduced under General Pervez Musharraf’s government in 2006 at a generous 75%, later reduced to 40% in 2013, and then to 25% by 2022. However, under the Finance Act 2022, the rebate was entirely withdrawn, leaving academicians and researchers without the relief they had relied upon for over a decade. In March 2025, following sustained advocacy by teacher associations, the federal cabinet reinstated the 25% rebate. Yet this reinstatement was met with resistance from the IMF, which objected to the rebate’s continuation on the grounds of tax harmonization.

Despite IMF pressure, the government, through the Finance Bill 2025–26, restored the 25% rebate retrospectively for Tax Years 2023, 2024, and 2025. This gesture has been welcomed as a step toward acknowledging the unique service of educators and researchers, though uncertainty looms over the rebate’s future. Such episodes illustrate the broader dilemma—whether national fiscal policy should prioritize external directives or respond to domestic needs and the principle of fairness.

In any fair and responsible state, the tax regime must be broad-based, equitable, and transparent. Burdening only those who are easily accessible while allowing powerful segments to remain untouched breeds resentment and erodes public trust. The salaried class, especially government servants, have performed their duty—often without applause or recognition. It is now time for other sectors to rise to the same standard. Equity in taxation is not merely a question of numbers; it is a test of the state’s moral authority and administrative integrity.